


Freak Like Me

by DaniJayNel



Series: 100 YumiKuri Stories [98]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: AU, Biting, F/F, G!P, Not for the faint of heart, Oneshot, Rough Sex, Smut, dark!fic, intersex Ymir, lots of blood, serial killer Ymir
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-23
Updated: 2016-07-23
Packaged: 2018-07-26 07:07:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7564831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaniJayNel/pseuds/DaniJayNel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ymir always knew that there was a special place in hell for her dark and twisted soul. Since she could remember, she had been addicted to the sweet taste of death. She never expected Historia, so innocent looking and kind, to accept her as she was, and ask to watch her kill.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Freak Like Me

**Author's Note:**

> there are parts of me that are pretty fucked up and enjoy this type of fucked up stuff. Since you're reading this, I assume the same applies to you. Fair warning though, that this is a pretty twisted oneshot. Death, gore, sex, mentions of a freckled dick and quite a lot of blood. You have been warned.

“Please,” he begged quietly, a trickle of sweat gleaming in the bright moonlight. “Please don’t kill me.”

Ymir melted into the darkness, eyes fierce as she watched his form. He was chained, arms lifted high above his head. His feet dangled uselessly in the air, the very tips of his toes just barely grazing the plastic covering the floor. It was amusing, to see him hanging like a soon to be dead fish, to see the terror on his face. Ymir hoped he wouldn’t wet himself. Plenty of them did. It was pathetic, and gross. Which was funny, considering how blood and raw flesh didn’t disgust her, but warm urine did.

A soft inhale to Ymir’s far right caught her attention, wrenching it away from the talking meat. She turned her head sharply, pulse suddenly thundering. Wide blue eyes gazed at her, small pink lips opening to exhale.

Historia sent her a look, then swallowed slowly. Ymir watched the way her throat bobbed. She wondered if this was still okay, and wanted to walk over to Historia, to make sure she was fine, when Historia nodded at her. It was a quick movement, but Ymir noticed it. Historia was telling her to proceed.

After all, they had spoken at length, about this, about Historia being there to witness Ymir feeding that darker part of her soul.

_“I kill people, Historia.”_

_“You… You what?”_

_“You heard me. You’ve suspected it, haven’t you? I’m broken. There is a very empty part inside of me, a part that I fill with warm blood and terrified screams.”_

_“Ymir… I… it’s okay.”_

_“Okay? How can that be okay?”_

_“Because I understand. Me too… I’ve…”_

_“You’ve killed?”_

_“No. No I haven’t. But I’ve wanted to. Ymir, I just… I’ve always been too scared. Take me with you, when you kill again. Let me watch you.”_

_“Are you sure you can handle that?”_

_“I want to.”_

Historia looked exceptionally beautiful, standing by the window, keeping watch for any passing car or wandering neighbour. She was fidgety, but that was mostly due to her own nerves. Ymir wondered if she was sick with worry, or sick with excitement. Ymir’s own tummy flipped over itself in joy, in the anticipation of cold steel and scarlet blood. In just moments Ymir would find her release, and Historia would get to see all of it.

“Shut up,” she growled at the man, stepping back into the shallow ceiling light. “I didn’t say you could speak.”

He flinched away from her form, eyes squeezing shut. It was her eyes, she knew. They could never look into her eyes. She looked like a monster like this, swallowed up by her own carnal desires, a need that even she couldn’t explain, but one that had been savagely cut into her without her consent. It was there, and she didn’t fight it, so it was time to feed her inner beast. First, came the fear.

“Please,” he muttered again, quietly, desperately. “I’ll give you money. This house. Anything. Just please.”

Ymir went to her knives, placed carefully on the dining room table that had been pushed to the wall. It only took a second to select the sharpest one. It was smallish in size, enough to nicely fit in her palm, but not bulky enough to become uncomfortable after a while. She had enough practice with knives to know which suited her best. The metal was as clean as the day she had bought it, sharpened to a frightening degree. It glinted as she twisted it around in her hand, and then it stained her red with she drew a small line down her wrist. Dots of blood welled up along the thin line. It barely hurt. Ymir grinned like a shark, anticipation coiling hard in her abdomen. She turned, stepping hard so that every footfall felt like certain doom to him. When she paused by his side, he had wet himself.

“Really?” she asked him in a snarl, eyes narrowed. She forced his gaze to meet hers with the knife underneath his chin. “You brag about your masculinity, but piss yourself the first second you can? Where did all that manliness go, hmm?”

Tears leaked out from the corners of his eyes, sweeping down his cheeks. “I’m s-sorry,” he cried out. He was shaking badly, rattling the chains above him. His bulky shoulders were pulled in such a way that Ymir wondered if they were dislocated. He had been hanging for a while already.

She didn’t like to draw it out too long. Depending on the man’s crimes, he would either die after a moment or two of torture, of he would go immediately. Ymir had made an exception this time, stringing him up and then waiting, drawing out every dark thing inside of him. Although his darkness could not compete with hers. No one’s could. Though…

Ymir spared a glance towards Historia. He didn’t know she was there. Her blue eyes had lost all nervousness, all the common innocence that often filled them. In that gaze Ymir saw venomous hunger. To anyone else, that look would have been repulsive, but to Ymir, it was like ecstasy. Arousal swept through her harshly, stirring her already sensitive cock. She had to use every ounce of strength to tear her gaze away from Historia.

Killing did not sexually arouse her, not like this. Killing alleviated an ache in her soul. But having Historia there, seeing someone so breathtakingly beautiful stare at the knife, knowing what was to come, with such want and adoration, was almost too much to bear. Ymir wanted to drop the knife and fuck Historia against the nearest surface. But then she caught the glint from the knife in her hand, and her arousal lowered to a manageable degree.

She was here to do one thing; kill.

Ymir circled him, teeth bared like an animal, heart pounding hard in her chest. He was hyperventilating, crying and spasming with fear. She didn’t pity him. He infuriated and disgusted her. When she paused in front of him yet again, she finally lifted her knife to begin her work. He screamed harshly when she carved an elegant ‘Y’ into his chest, as she did with all of her victims. His wails turned into sobs, and then he was praying loudly, asking for his god, for any god, to save him.

“If a god existed,” Ymir told him icily, enjoying the pure terror that laced his expression. “Then _it_ was the one that put you here.” His expression fell, like she had just crushed him underneath her shoe. It was a delicious expression. Ymir circled him again, the knife tip pressed to his skin. She hardly added pressure, but he screamed anyway as she cut him. After another minute or so, she couldn’t control the suffocating darkness clouding her vision, the sudden tightness in her chest. It almost hurt to breath. With a deep inhale, Ymir arced the knife across his throat, spilling his life blood onto her and the floor, she then plunged the knife underneath his ribcage, satisfied when it punctured the sac of his heart, more blood gushing out and onto her clothes, bathing and sloshing against the floor.

Ymir panted harshly. This feeling was similar to an orgasm, but better. It was taking in that first breath after holding it for too long. It was eating after going hungry for days and days. It was quenching a thirst that was thought unquenchable. Ymir closed her eyes, soaking in the moment, and the shivering touches of the darkness as it slithered over her skin and returned to that deep, dark place inside of her. When it had receded and she could breathe, she removed the knife and then glanced down at it. The surface was coated in black.

Historia drew in a shaky breath.

Ymir had forgotten that she was there. When she turned, her arousal spiked yet again. Historia stared at her with hunger and desire, of the like Ymir had never seen before. She swallowed, but the action was difficult. A new darkness had swallowed her, that of her desire for Historia, her need to take and claim her, to be deeply inside of her. Forgetting the blood and the carnage, Ymir strode forward, and then she had Historia against the wall, legs wrapped around her waist, Historia’s hands in her hair.

When their lips crashed together, her kiss tasted like fire.

Historia gasped into her mouth, a low moan following soon after. Her tiny body quivered, and from where Ymir’s hands touched, her muscles were pulled taut with tension. Had Historia been just as aroused? Had the sight of Ymir slashing that knife taken Historia’s breath away?

“What did you think?” Ymir breathed against her.

Historia pressed her thighs against Ymir’s hips, forcing her forward. “It was…” she sucked in a breath, dove into another string of deep kisses before finally pulling away to answer. Her voice was low and husky, dripping with every ounce of desire that ran through Ymir’s blood, too. “Freeing.”

Ymir pulled back farther to gaze across Historia’s flushed face. “No repulsion?”

Historia shook her head. “No.”

“Do you feel sick?”

“Not at all.”

“What do you feel?”

The blush seemed to worsen, travelling across the bridge of her nose, up to the tips of her ears and then down her neck. Ymir eyed her pale skin, the flush, the way her chest heaved. Her stomach clenched and rolled, and the warmth of her own arousal was dizzying. She knew Historia could feel how hard she was through her pants.

“I feel like… like I can finally breathe,” she admitted quietly. Historia’s gaze dropped. “I feel released, like I’ve been too scared to move, chained up and kept in one little room my whole life.” Her voice strengthened at the end, and when Historia looked up, Ymir saw a flurry of deep emotion in her eyes. “I feel amazing.”

Ymir tilted her head. “This is strange,” she muttered. Glancing out the window, she watched the moonlight play against the black tar. “What kind of monster does it take to turn us the same?” She smiled, turning back. “I’m glad you didn’t run screaming.”

“You thought I would?”

Ymir shrugged. “Normal people don’t kill for fun.”

“Who’s to say we aren’t normal, and the rest aren’t unnatural?”

Ymir liked the thought. She jogged her hips suddenly, ending the serious conversation, bringing it all back to one single, searing point—their arousal. Historia’s eyes shut and she groaned lowly. “We can analyse our brains later,” she husked, moving forward to kiss along Historia’s throat. “Right now I want to fuck you.”

Historia’s own hips jerked, making Ymir groan this time. It felt like sparks ran along her skin, making every inch of her hum with energy and desire. “I want you so much right now,” Historia whined. Her hands returned to Ymir’s hair, tugging at the brown locks before sliding down to cup her cheeks. She pulled Ymir’s face up to hers, taking Ymir’s lips between her teeth. Ymir growled.

“I’m full of blood,” Ymir mumbled into her mouth. She had completely forgotten. Blood smeared across her skin, dripped from her clothing.

“I don’t care.”

 _I want to marry her,_ ran through Ymir’s mind. She had never had such feelings for anyone before—lust, sure. But this? The feeling that if she didn’t claim Historia as hers, that she would crumble with the next harsh wind? It was an irritating feeling, one that Ymir had been fighting for months now, but it was one that she could get used to. If it was Historia, then Ymir didn’t mind being tied down.

Besides, when would she meet someone again, who would watch her end a life and promptly devour her afterwards? Never. No one else like Historia existed. Ymir wanted to revel in her.

They kissed hungrily, pulling at clothes until Ymir had a soft, warm breast in her palm. She had never enjoyed the sensation until then, and took full advantage of that. Historia shivered and moaned as she palmed her sensitive flesh, stroke across her nipples when she felt like it. One of Historia’s hands dropped down between them and fiddled with her pants zipper, and when it seemed like Historia would give up the struggle, Ymir released her chest to help.

“Eager?” she asked, grinning wolfishly. Historia rolled her eyes, and then they widened when Ymir’s zipper slid down and she pulled her hard length out. The head was already wet, and she was red and throbbing thanks to the minutes of foreplay.

Historia swallowed and licked her lips. “Please,” she blurted.

Ymir obliged. She slid a hand underneath Historia’s skirt and pulled her underwear to the side, eagerly lining herself up. “How hot did it make you?” she husked suddenly.

Historia moaned. “So hot.”

“And you want me?”

“So badly.”

“Where?”

“Inside of me, Ymir. Please. Fuck me.”

Ymir obeyed without a second thought. She edged forward slowly, for the first time in her life being careful not to hurt, and then moaned deeply when the head of her cock pushed past Historia’s entrance. Historia whimpered, and then her breath hitched as Ymir sank in all the way. She was so wet that it took one pump of Ymir’s hips, and then there was barely any space between them. Ymir folded her fingers around Historia’s pale thighs, lips pressed to her throat again. She applied a gentle bite and then she drew her hips back. Historia tugged at her hair and breathed harshly against the side of her face.

“Hold on tight,” Ymir told her hotly, grinning against the red patch of skin. Her bites became harder, rougher until she broke skin and tasted blood. She kept her thrusts to a slow rhythm, enjoying Historia’s desperate motions against her. Historia wanted it rough despite her size. Historia was tiny. Initially, Ymir had wondered if penetration would rip her in two. But Historia was a lot stronger than she looked. Actually, Historia seemed to enjoy the way Ymir’s teeth bruised her skin, how her long fingers were sure to leave bruises, and how her hard cock slammed almost painfully inside of her. Historia’s inner walls shuddered each time, and Ymir could feel a sudden slight tightness, a swelling of Historia’s front wall that told her to ease up or they would both meet their wonderful ends too soon.

“Oh god, Ymir,” Historia moaned. She arched her back, allowing Ymir to bury her face between her breasts. Ymir fastened her hips again, if just to feel the increasing thud of her heartbeat. It proved to be too much too soon, and Historia thrashed against her as she came hard, eyes screwed shut, nails drawing blood along Ymir’s shoulders, and strong thighs clamped too tightly against Ymir’s hips.

Ymir lifted her eyes to watch the rapture on Historia’s face, the way her pink lips parted, dripping dirty moans and quiet curses. She hadn’t come yet, even as Historia shuddered around her, tight and hot. Historia’s eyes opened and their gazes met, and it was only then that Ymir’s own orgasm took her suddenly, rushing in and causing her eyelids to tingle. Waves of pleasure travelled down her spine to her toes, and then she was spraying deeply inside of Historia, bathing her insides with every bit of come that she could pump out. After a few more shallow thrusts, she forced herself to stop, and then she leaned her forehead against the wall beside Historia’s head, and took in deep, even breaths.

“Are you okay?” Historia asked softly, brushing damp hair from Ymir’s cheek.

Ymir laughed. “Me? How about you?”

“I think you nearly broke me. I’ll be sore for a bit. But a good sore. God, a _really_ good sore.”

Ymir pulled back, grinning. She could feel their combined come trailing down their thighs, and glanced around the room. “I think we should shower before dumping that somewhere,” she said, flicking her eyes to the still hanging corpse. Blood pooled everywhere, but the carefully placed plastic covering had kept it all from leaking onto the carpet.

Historia followed her gaze, and then she nodded and allowed Ymir to drop her down onto her feet. “What do you do to get rid of the evidence?”

Ymir stilled for a moment, realizing that she hadn’t gone into too much detail on what she did afterwards. “Well…”

Historia stared, curious. Eventually she rolled her eyes. “If I can fuck you after watching you kill someone, Ymir, I doubt there is anything else that could scare me off. I promise.”

_Fuck, she’s right._

“We cut him up and dump the pieces where no one will find them. Will you stay to watch?”

Historia shrugged. “I can help, too.”

Ymir straightened, inhaling loudly. “Fuck. I think I’m in love with you.”

Historia smiled beautifully. “You better be,” she warned jokingly. “Because next time _I_ will fuck you into oblivion. Now, are we going to shower or do you want Mr Corpse over there to witness a messy round 2?”

Ymir gestured to the hallway. “After you, milady.”

Historia laughed, and then Ymir trailed after her towards the shower. After another soul shattering round of sex, they dried each other off, dressed in clean clothes that Ymir had brought, and then set about disposing of the body. Historia surprised Ymir in how eager she was to help, and didn’t flinch once as they cut through meat and bone. When the last of the pieces had been dumped into the ocean, Ymir took a step back to observe Historia staring down at the sinking bags.

“Historia?” she started quietly. Historia lifted her face and looked towards her. “When we get back to land, will you marry me?”

A slight breeze lifted Historia’s golden hair and rustled the blue dress she wore. After a short moment, Historia smiled brightly. Despite the fact that they were most likely the two most fucked up people one earth, and that they hadn’t known each other for more than a few months, Historia answered her anyway.

“Only if you marry me first.”

**Author's Note:**

> First YumiKuri I seriously write for a while and it's this. I dunno. Hope you guys enjoyed! I certainly did ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)


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